


Away From the Sea

by Ywain Penbrydd (penbrydd)



Series: A Comedy of Assholes (Rhapsody, etc.) [18]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Backstory, Card Games, F/M, Innuendo, Innuendo and out the other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 02:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6835264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penbrydd/pseuds/Ywain%20Penbrydd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anton Hawke has been making a name for himself in Lowtown, winning an obscene number of the games he can get himself into. He's a bit surprised, though, when the pirate he only won one game against, years ago, in Gwaren, shows up in Kirkwall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Away From the Sea

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lisswrites](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisswrites/gifts).



> This took about three months longer than it should have, but here's the fic promised for leaving the 2500th comment in my inbox!

The Hanged Man always had a game of Diamondback going on Monday nights, and if there was something Anton had learnt in his days in Kirkwall, it was that drunken traders were easy to take a few silver off of. Most of the time, he didn't even have to cheat.

He dropped into an empty seat at the table, in the middle of a hand, dog settling by the side of his chair. It was dangerous, being obviously Fereldan in Kirkwall, but Mintaka made up for the danger of being a dog-lord by being a very good dog -- the kind that could have a man on the ground and take his arm off in the barest moment.

"Oh, shit, it's this guy again," one of the players groaned, having lost repeatedly to the dog-lord in question.

"Don't worry about it, Ronnie, one of these days you'll take it back off him!" Everyone laughed. Ronnie was notoriously bad at Diamondback.

"Deal me in for the next hand," Anton said, with a smile. "Maybe this'll be your lucky night."

Nobody believed it, but Anton was always so good-natured, winning or losing, that no one could bring themselves to refuse to let him play. He waved to the waitress, as he spotted her, and after a quick exchange of gestures, she nodded and served the table she'd been on her way to. He'd have his usual, before he had his cards, at this rate, and that was fine by him.

Waiting for the round to wrap up, Anton sipped his beer and slipped the dog slivers of whatever meat that was in tonight's 'miner's heap', a dish made of bread ends, leftovers, and gravy, that sold for just a couple pieces of copper. One of his few indulgences, really. Most of his coin went to keeping his mother in sleeping potions. As long as Cormac could keep food on the table, he could take care of that. He stared morosely into his pint for a bit, before he held out his hand for his cards. The game would be easy, he thought. No real competition.

The first hand passed quickly, and Anton, as expected, won, raking in a pile of copper coins, as Thom and Ronnie threw pine nut shells at him.

"I told you not to deal him in!" Ronnie complained, splitting another nut with his teeth and winging the shell at Anton's head.

"Well, if you'd get your head out of your ass, maybe you'd win a hand!" Thom laughed and shook his head.

"I don't see you winning!" Ronnie argued.

Anton could feel eyes on his back, suddenly, as the argument continued and the cards were gathered to be shuffled for the next hand. More than just the rest of the bar laughing at the drunks playing cards. Someone was watching him, and his hand slid down under the table to take hold of the knife he wore in his boot.

"Well, well," a woman said, leaning over his shoulder. "If it isn't the infamous dog-lord, come back for more. What do you think, boys, deal a lady in for the next hand?"

"You sure you want to play with us, little lady?" Ronnie asked, eyeing the woman lecherously.

"He means he can't afford you," Thom teased, inspiring Ronnie to wing a handful of nuts at his head.

The woman took a look at the pile of coins Anton had just scraped over. "Oh, you definitely can't afford me, at those prices, but I've been looking for a game a little closer to home."

Anton knew that voice from somewhere, but he couldn't place it. "You want to take a seat, or are you going to keep playing from over my shoulder?" The weight lifted and he heard a chair scrape over from another table.

"Well, I'd put it here, but your dog's in my way."

"Then I guess you'd better put it on the other side of me, right?" Anton drawled, picking up the deck to shuffle for the next hand.

The next available space was most of the way around the table, and after a bit more shoving and shuffling, the woman crammed the chair into it and dropped into the seat. "Deal me in."

Anton finally got a look at her, as she accepted her cards. "Don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Captain Isabela? Queen of the Eastern Seas?" the woman replied, sorting her hand and placing an opening wager. "I think I'd remember a face like yours, around here."

"I'm not from around here," Anton muttered, assessing his own hand and trying to place that voice, that name...

"They don't call 'im a dog-lord for nothing, you know," Ronnie pointed out.

"Waaait..." Isabela peered over the top of her cards. This guy looked a little too familiar, and if he was Fereldan, that opened up a whole new set of names and places. "Port of Gwaren, 9:22? 9:23? Toby, right? That smug little shit who won a hand. Is that still the same dog?"

"Tony, not Toby." Anton kept an eye on her hands as he tossed in another coin and drew a card. "And Mintaka plays almost as well as I do, now."

"Same wager," Isabela proposed, squinting across the table. She'd almost taken him on as a deckhand -- the year at sea had been the last thing he'd had to bet.

"Absolutely not."

The cards kept moving around them, but the rest of the table was paying more attention to them than to the game.

"Well, you're no fun any more, are you?" Isabela teased, frowning dramatically, for a moment.

"I'm not a kid looking for adventure any more, Captain," Anton replied, matching the last bet, but not raising. "I've got a family to take care of."

"And then you only had a family to run away from," Isabela teased, watching the group sort their hands. "So, you got married? You?"

"Didn't. It's the same family I've always had. Just... the Blight came, and here we are in the glamorous city of Kirkwall." Anton spread his cards on the table.

"And all I'm hearing is 'still not married'," Isabela purred, shifting in her seat. "You grew up to be a handsome bastard, didn't you?"

Ronnie's eyes were far more firmly on Isabela's cleavage than on his own cards, as he threw down his hand.

"Hardly a bastard, and flashing your pretty baubles isn't going to get my eyes off my cards, this time, either. Or your hands." Anton grinned and tapped the table. "Cards on the table."

"Are you sure?" Isabela purred, smiling all too widely. "One time offer, Tony. I fold, take my bets, and leave."

The rest of the table shifted uncomfortably, the men looking at each other and then this woman. Who was she really? And more to the point, why was their favourite dog-lord treating her like a case of lyrium?

Anton grinned broadly, one hand slipping under the table again. "Cards on the table, Captain. You wanted in, and now you're in."

"You always were a good loser, Tony," Isabela sighed, spreading her cards with one hand and picking up the nearest tankard with the other. There was no question she'd won. It wasn't even close. Her hand was one of those solid ones that no one ever went for, because they were all aiming higher, and while Anton could have beat it with one more card, that card was in Thom's hand. No one else at the table was even near what they had.

"Ohhh!" Ronnie roared, clapping Isabela on the back. "I like her! I'd buy the lady a drink, but I think she just took me for enough for three!"

Isabela swept up her cards and handed them to Anton. "You want to check the backs. I know you."

Anton snatched the cards, holding them up to the light and comparing the patterns on the back. He counted the cards, as Isabela swept the pile of coins toward her.

"Three drinks?" she asked, sorting the coins. "What have you been drinking? Maybe that's your problem. A fever from bad ale!"

Thom cackled and waved Edwina over again. "Get this lady something. What'd you say your name was?"

"Isabela." She smiled and passed a few coins to Edwina, along with an order for a strong ale. "It's a good Antivan name, and I am a very bad Antivan."

"It's because you're from fucking Rivain," Anton filled in, and the table laughed.

"You remember that?" Isabela asked, accepting the deck from Anton. "You remember that and not my face?"

"You were wearing your hair different, then! And more..." Anton gesticulated. "... pants."

"I gave up pants for the benefits at the card table," Isabela joked, shuffling the cards in slow and obvious motions. It wasn't clear to the rest of the table, but Anton had seen her shuffle before. This was for show. This was slowed down so he could watch the way she handled the cards.

"Your legs are under the table, when you're playing cards," Anton pointed out, still shaken from the loss he should have expected. And that really was it -- he'd played with her before. He should've known that would end in another loss for him. He'd only won once.

"Ah, but it's the knowledge of them!" Isabela laughed, dealing. "You know how men think, Tony. You're a man. Tell me you wouldn't be playing better if you knew I was wearing pants."

"I wouldn't be playing better if I knew you were wearing pants," Anton drawled, picking up his cards, as they landed. "If I'm looking at your legs, it's to see if you're hiding cards in your boots."

"Gentlemen, this is why he keeps winning." Isabela laughed again, setting the deck to the side and picking up her cards. "What's a good opening bid, Tony?"

"A copper piece," Thom cut in, looking mournfully at the small pile of coins before him. "Can't start lower than one!"

Isabela tossed in a single coin, as she rearranged her cards. "You've come down in the world! I'd have expected a smart kid like you to be playing for gold, by now!"

"Unfortunately for those of us who live on land, the Blight happened. New city, new game, no dad. And a year of indentured servitude, to boot." Anton grinned all too toothily. "I'm just getting started."

"Ooh, hey, sorry about your dad. I heard of him. Mercenary, right? Word is that was a good-looking man." Isabela shook her head sympathetically, and Ronnie shot Thom a look. 'Sorry your dad's dead, I heard he was hot,' usually had that effect on a crowd. Isabela meant to keep them off balance, particularly Tony.

But, Anton didn't even blink, as he played through the round. "You can see for yourself. My older brother looks just like him."

"Ooh! I'm definitely getting a look before the darkspawn ruin my chances there, too." Isabela wiggled her eyebrows. "Older brother, huh? That mean you have a younger brother, too?"

"Two older, one younger, and a sister," Anton said, watching Isabela's hands as she drew another card.

"You didn't tell us you had a sister!" Ronnie cut in.

Thom laughed and discarded a card. "It's because his sister's too good for you, Ronnie. _My_ sister's too good for you."

"Your sister's a scrawny fishwife, and her tongue could burn the ears off an Antivan sailor," Ronnie huffed, raising without paying attention.

"She's still too good for you," Thom teased.

"But, the real question is, is she too good for _me_?" Isabela purred, watching the cuffs of Anton's shirt as he slipped a bit of meat to the dog. "Sounds like my kind of girl!"

Thom reddened up to his eyebrows, sputtering uselessly as he gripped his cards hard enough to bend them.

"What do you think, Tony, is his sister too good for me?" Isabela asked, as the game went on around Thom's sputtering.

"I think the real question is whether I'm too good for you," Anton joked, taking another bite of food before he had to play anything. "I see the way you're looking at me, watching my hands. You want to know if I've gotten any good with them."

Ronnie burst out laughing and played another card. "You think she's interested in the likes of you?"

"Well, considering she almost stole me away for a life of seabound shenanigans, it's certainly likely," Anton teased, dancing a card across the backs of his knuckles before he laid it on the table. "What changed your mind, Captain?"

"You won that game, fair and square." Isabela shrugged and tossed another coin into the pot.

"Did I?" Anton asked. "Are you sure?"

"Are you telling me you cheated or asking if I let you win?" Isabela's eyes narrowed as she turned over her last card after the jangle of coins stopped.

"Are you so unsure which one of us cheated in that game?" Anton's eyebrows arced up, as the cursing and muttering started on the other side of the table. "I thought you were good at this."

"Are you fucking kidding me!" Ronnie roared as Anton turned over his last card.

"Well, I wasn't expecting that," Isabela admitted, eyeing that card. "And I am good at this. So, this is the part where you pick up your coins, and we go back to my room, where I start looking for where you're keeping the extra cards."

"Ooooh, that is not going to be jolly for your jimmy, no matter what you think she wants." Thom flinched sympathetically.

"Gentlemen, if I'm not back tomorrow, send a medic." Anton laughed and gathered his winnings, pouring them into his empty mug, before he set his plate on the floor for Mintaka. "You won't find any cards on me. It's just your luck rubbing off."

"I'm sure the luck won't be the only thing rubbing off, tonight." Isabela laughed and hooked her fingers in the collar of Anton's shirt. "Goodnight, boys. Play nice! I've got to teach this young pup some new tricks."

"Be good, Mintaka!" Anton called over his shoulder, as Isabela led him off. "Don't let Thom cheat Ronnie! I'll be back to take you home in an hour or two. Maybe those two will deal you in, if you sit in my spot."

Anton let himself be led off toward Isabela's room, as the laughter swelled behind him. It cut off just before the door closed, when Mintaka actually did hop into his seat, paws on the table, eyeing the opposition with a friendly woof.


End file.
